Perhaps it's the pain in bones that has been a trusted companion longer than not. Maybe it’s the ache of a womb that knew a heartbeat for just a few weeks. Then, suddenly still—vacant despite continued occupation of what might have been. 

It could be the grief of seeing her face once the strength of soul no longer held it in the shape I had come to know. Soul, the true infrastructure to our anatomy—yet bones continue to get all the credit.   

I do not partake for prosperity. I have learned that faith is not a guarantee. It is a fortification against the storm. The storm that would break the bones but cannot shatter the soul.